


the course of true love

by eg1701



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Dreams, M/M, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, tom wambsgans and the internalized biphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27848086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eg1701/pseuds/eg1701
Summary: You got to meet your soulmate once, in a dream, when things were at their bleakest, waking up with no memory of their face.Tom feels like the universe is playing a joke on him.(chapter two now featuring the soulmate dream of one Greg Hirsch)
Relationships: Greg Hirsch/Tom Wambsgans, Siobhan "Shiv" Roy/Tom Wambsgans
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> idk the unhinged tomgreg nation on tumblr seem to all be going through it and so i wrote a lil something to hopefully help some of y'all a lil but! i don't have much to offer you, but i do have fluff! y'all are one of my favorite little corners of the internet and i really appreciate every single one of you
> 
> (title from a midsummer night's dream)

It was one of those times when you _knew_ you were dreaming, but there was still such a real quality about it that you could almost believe it was truly happening. 

Tom recognized the park as the one that was a few miles from his childhood home. He had fond memories of his father pushing him on the swings, of chasing his cousins around when they came to visit, of the ice cream trucks that would park in the summertime. 

Though it was empty of all that now. The sun hung low in the air, and though he didn’t exactly _feel_ cold, he still knew there was a chill in the air. He wished a car or a jogger or something would go by, so he didn’t feel so terribly fucking loney, but that was just par for the course at this point. 

“Hey man,” somebody said. He looked up at the figure who was looming over him, “How are you?”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Dude,” the man-- tall, lean, but still a stranger-- said, “Like, the concept of the whole soulmate dream is like, well known.”

“Oh no,” Tom said, “I don’t believe in that bullshit.”

“Soulmates? Like, it’s a thing I don’t know what to tell you. It's like pretty well established.”

Uninvited, the human Gumby sat next to him. Tom thought about scooting over to move away from him, but decided against it. 

Everybody knew about the Soulmate Dream. It was common knowledge that when you were really going through it, when things seemed particularly bleak, you got a free pep talk from your soulmate in your dreams, though you didn’t remember who they were when you woke up. Tom used to think it was something you told kids, like Santa or the fucking Tooth Fairy, but his parents had both promised him it was true. He still thought maybe they were only teasing him until about two minutes ago. Even so, this felt like a joke.

“You’re a man,” Tom said. It was a dumb thing to say, and he knew it, but it was about all his brain could put out at that moment.

He laughed, “Yeah. I know. Sorry you have to like, find out about your sexuality this way even though I think maybe you _already_ know. But like, you don’t remember it so that’s fine I guess.”

Tom frowned, “You’re not Shiv.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, and looked down at his shoes, “But I think you knew that already too.”

“Oh fuck you.” Tom hoped it would sound harsh or something, but it just sounded tired. Fuck this random guy who thought he knew anything about Tom or his life, or Shiv or any of it.

“I know like,” the man frowned, “Things are bad right now.”

“Oh don’t fucking patronize me,” Tom stood up. He didn’t want to talk to this fucking idiot, who didn’t know shit about anything, who made him remember parts about himself he’d done well pushing down, who had shown up in his fucking dreamworld uninvited and, though Tom hated to admit it, kind of attractive. 

(It was true. Tom usually ignored those sorts of feelings, and since he and Shiv had gotten together they didn’t matter anyway because he was with Shiv, but even though the man was a little lanky for his taste, he was handsome.)

“I’m not,” he shook his head, “You’re fucking impossible to talk to in your fucking dreams as well. You’re a dick Tom. But I do love you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“No, _you_ don’t know _me._ I know you better than I know myself.”

“This isn’t happening,” Tom said. He turned away and ran a hand over his face. What did people do, when they had their Dream only to have their entire world thrown upside down. Sure he wouldn’t remember, but how the fuck was he supposed to go back to normal life after this?

“Dude, you’re not even gonna remember it, why are you like, freaking out about this?”

“When do we meet?” He ignored the question and turned back around.

“Uh, I don’t know, compared to when you are. Soon, I think. Though, honestly man? Shit is going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better. Like not to be all Ghost of Christmas Future on you, but if you think your life is bad now?”

“Aren’t you supposed to like encourage me or something? Isn’t that your one fucking job as my dream soulmate ghost or what-fucking-ever?”

“What do you want me to tell you? That it gets better? Cause it does, it just gets worse first. But I will tell you that I love you so much that it scares me. Cause I’ve never loved anybody like this and every morning, when I wake up before you, I just watch you for a little because I always think it’s the last time. That you’re going to wise up and leave me for someone better. But you don’t. Instead you call me a dumbass and you pick up my dry cleaning when I forget, and you love me too. So life sucks Tom, it does, but I promise things are going to get better.”

“That was cheesy,” Tom said, even though he sort of thought it was nice, “Whatever I guess.”

“Come sit back down,” he patted the spot next to him. After a moment, Tom sat down, “You know, you tell me all the time you don’t believe in soulmates.”

“I don’t. I _love_ Shiv.”

“I know you do.”

Tom blinked in surprise, “You don’t care?”

“Not really. I think you can love more than one person at a time. I think that’s alright. Honestly man, you love her still and I really don’t care. Because you come home to _me_ at the end of the day. I know that's kind of bad to say, but like, it's the truth."

“It must be ugly,” Tom said, “Whatever happened between Shiv and I.”

“It’ll be fine,” he squeezed Tom’s hand, which was in no way reassuring and in now way any sort of explanation, “Like, I promise you that it’ll all be fine.”

“I don’t know if I believe you,” Tom said, staring down at their hands. The other man said-- Tom still hadn’t asked his name, wasn’t sure if that was too much of a commitment. He’d much rather think of this man as a nameless stranger, “I don’t think I want to.”

“I know. You’re kind of a cynic. I mean, like, I guess it’s with good reason, but still. You don’t have to be so cynical all the time.”

“I’m not a cynic.”

“Yeah you are,” the man bumped Tom’s knee with his own. It wasn’t unkind or harsh. It was actually a little sad, “You’re a big cynic. You think love is a business agreement. At least the you I know does. Maybe you don’t _now._ ”

“That’s fucking depressing as shit.” Tom didn’t want to turn into that. Sure, he knew that in getting married to Shiv-- he hoped at least that’s where they were headed-- he was getting things out of the arrangement. Marriage was, at its core, an arrangement where both parties, hopefully, benefited. But it wasn’t the fucking Middle Ages anymore. He wasn’t a crown prince. People married for love now. He loved Shiv, and he was fairly certain she loved him.What was going to happen to cause him to change his mind so drastically.

He wasn’t sure he liked that very much.

“Yeah. But I think you’re happy with me. Well, I like to think so. I love you. I think you’re going to wake up now. Shiv’ll be home any minute.”

“This is incredibly meta you fucking Big Bird.”

“Dude, I didn’t make the world and the whole dream thing. Blame God or whatever.”

“Thanks,” Tom smiled, “I guess I look forward to meeting you one of these days.”

“I’m proposing to you,” he said suddenly and Tom stared a him, “Tomorrow. It’s our anniversary or whatever and I know you _won’t_ do it and I’m freaking out about it.”

“You’re proposing to me?”

He nodded, “Yeah. I don’t know. I just thought I would. It’s been almost two years now. I don’t know if you’re going to say yes really. You think, I mean, you’ve never like _said_ it but I think you think that if we get married it’ll turn to a shitshow because that’s what happened to you before but I think it’s different this time.”

“You’re really, _really_ bad at this whole soulmate pep talk,” Tom said, “Like you really are terrible at making me feel even remotely better. First you show up and you’re a guy, then you tell me my relationship with the woman I love is going to go down the shitter, and then you tell me I basically lose all my faith in love. I think I might feel worse.”

“They don’t give lessons on these things man. You probably sucked too when you came to see me.”

“How do you know it already happened?”

“Dude, if that wasn’t my lowest fucking point I’m fucked.” 

“How do you know I’m _your_ soulmate. You hear all the time about one way soulmates.”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s you though.”

“That’s disgusting. Why are you so sure?”

“I don’t know Tom. Sometimes you just _know._ ”

But Tom didn't _know_ anything because he felt like someone had taken his world and shaken it like a snow globe. What did any of this mean? The only saving grave was that he wasn't going to remember any of this when he woke up, but right now he felt like shit.

"Shit's crazy," the man said shrugging, "Love's hard or whatever."

"Yeah," Tom swallowed, "Soulmates huh?"

He grinned. It was a little goofy honestly, Tom thought, but not completely without charms. 

"Maybe I know too," Tom said, hopeful that his future self was better off than his current self. 

"Maybe you do."

***  
Tom woke up to Shiv coming home. She smiled, and set her bag down. 

“Were you asleep?”

“Yeah I must have passed out,” he stifled a yawn, “I was having a weird dream?”

“Oh yeah?” she came over and leaned down to kiss him. He settled his hands on her hips. It had been several days since she’d been home, since they’d kissed or touched or anything and he’d _missed_ her, “What about?”

“I don’t remember. I think I was back home. You know how you have dreams sometimes that just feel real? I don’t know.”

“Well,” she combed a hand through his hair, “I know you just woke up, but do you want to go back to bed?”

She swung one leg over, so she was mostly straddling his lap. He liked the invitation, liked the idea of going back to bed, but the dream left him with a strange feeling in his gut.

“Can we just sit here for a minute? I fucking missed you.”

“Oh. Sure. Did something happen?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I just missed you is all.”

Tom had a horrible feeling that something _had_ happened, but that he didn’t know what it was. After a moment, he chalked it up to nothing more than one of those things, and pressed a kiss to Shiv’s shoulder. Her blouse was thin silk, and her skin was cold from the weather outside. He shut his eyes for a second, shook the feeling away, and nodded. It was just a strange feeling from waking up from a long nap, like when you were sick as a kid and went to sleep in daylight, only to wake up in darkness. It was nothing.

“Bed,” he smiled, “I’d very much like to get you out of those clothes.”

The dream faded, as dreams did as Shiv took his hand with a sly smile and led him into the bedroom. 

(Sometime down the line, another time, another _Tom_ came home to a freshly made dinner, and a proposal. He said yes, after telling the man-- Greg, he'd learn it eventually-- that he was the world's biggest fucking sap and he really wanted to get _married?_ and then holding him very tightly so Greg wouldn't see he had teared up a bit.)

But he didn’t know about any of that. Wouldn’t know for a long time. And it didn’t matter anyways because Shiv was home, and she was his right now, and that was great. He loved her deeply, loved her fiercely, and had plans to propose to her soon, maybe when they were in New York next, whenever that might be. Marrying into the Roys wouldn't be easy, but for her, he'd do it.

It was just a stupid dream anyway, and he was happy where he was thank you very much. 

Still. It was hard to shake the feeling that he was _missing_ something. Missing _someone._ The feeling lingered in the back of his mind, an itch just too out of the way to scratch properly. It would come and go, resurfacing strongly when Shiv’s dumbass cousin from Canada showed up at Logan’s eightieth birthday party-- a coincidence surely.

It had to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg's turn in the soulmate hotseat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! i wrote half of this a few weeks after the first chapter and finally finished it!

The last time Greg had visited the campsite he couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve. That was back before everything had come out, back before his parent’s marriage had imploded, and his mother had sealed herself off from almost the entire world. Before everything. 

It looked just like he remembered. The hiking trails, the open air kitchen with the fire pit. He remembered making s’mores with his dad and some of his uncles. Remembered the smell of the autumn leaves in the air, the crunch they made under his sneaker. His mom had called it a boys weekend, and there had been talks of making it a yearly tradition, but as far as Greg could remember, they’d only gone once or twice. 

Greg knew this was a dream. He wasn’t sure how he knew that exactly, but it had the strange quality that only dreams have. The world was too still, too perfect to be real.

He poked around the kitchen, without any real reason. There wasn’t anything to cook, wasn’t much of anything to do.

“Hey,” somebody said, and Greg whipped around. The voice had startled him to say the least. 

He didn’t recognize the man. Somebody had told him once, maybe an old teacher or classmate, that your brain couldn’t come up with new faces. That everybody you saw in your dreams was somebody you’d seen before. 

Save for your soulmate dream of course. But that was _different._

The man leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly. He looked a good ten years older or so, but Greg though that only meant it would be a bit before they met. 

And he was handsome. He was dressed in nice clothes and shined shoes. Greg would be hard pressed to find him unattractive at all.

“Yeah,” the man chuckled, “I thought the soulmate thing was bullshit too.”

“Oh,” Greg nodded, “Like, I wasn’t sure. I don’t know what you’re supposed to do in this particular situation.”

“I’m unsurprised,” he said, not unkindly. Actually rather friendly. 

“Do you, like, want to sit?” Greg asked, motioning towards one of the picnic tables. The man nodded. 

He’d eaten hamburgers there as a kid, and got several splinters from the cracked wood of the seats. No splinters now though. He ran his hand across the wood, finding it smooth and almost unreal. The dream, he figured. 

“So you’re my soulmate huh?” Greg asked. 

It wasn’t so much that he didn’t believe in soulmates. Sure he did. There were all kinds of soulmates, for all kinds of people that wanted them, but Greg couldn’t see somebody who was, like, _meant_ for him. 

“Yeah.”

Greg nodded, “We don’t like, know each other yet right?”

“No. Not for a bit. Did you leave college yet?”

“Yeah. I didn’t tell Mom yet, I’ve been pretending otherwise for like a while now. She’s going to kill me. I only have like, ten credits left. But I just couldn't finish it.”

“No she’s not to kill you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because,” the man smiled. He covered one of Greg’s hands with his own. Greg was distinctly aware of the wedding band on the man’s left hand, and hoped against all fucking hope that future Greg had something to do with that, “I know _you_ dipshit. I know all about you.”

“You do?”

“I know that you broke your left wrist twice in a year when you were nine. I know all about the crush you had on your eighth grade math teacher. I know that you think you’re a shitty chef, but you’re not half bad. I know you can only do karaoke when you’re drunk and even then it’s almost exclusively Brittney Spears. I know all about you, so no, Greg, your mother is not going to kill you. And for Christ’s sake tell her so you can move along in life and we can fucking meet each other. I’m not going all the way to Canada to get your ass.”

“She keeps pushing me to get a real job. I don’t know, like, at Waystar or something. I think she’s gonna beg Grandpa or something. Pull some strings soon. She’s tired of me fucking up.”

“It’s going to be a little while,” he said, “But you’ll get there.”

“Are, like, I mean, are we gonna get together?”

The man laughed, “Greg, honey, I don’t even know how to explain to you all the shit that’s going to happen.”

“Aren’t you supposed to like give me a little pep talk?” Greg asked nervously. This was not the way this was supposed to go, if all the stories he’d been told were anything to go by. Were things somehow going to get _that_ bad.”

He chuckled, “You’ll see.”

“You know I gotta ask,” Greg pointed at the wedding band, “Do I have one of those too?”

“God you’re so fucking adorable,” he shook his head, “I love you so much. I need you to hear it now, so maybe it’ll help you when you wake up. Yes, you have one too. Fucking Greg’s gettin’ hitched. Bet you find that surprising.”

“Yeah I do. Like, yeah. I think I’d make a shitty husband.”

“The good news is that if you marry someone even shittier, it balances out in the end,” he reasoned, like he was spouting some scientific equation, “Two assholes and one dog equals something that seems to be working out just fine.”

“I guess you’re not that bad at pep talks or whatever.”

“Guess not.”

“I also guess I’ll see you soon or whatever,” Greg shrugged.

The man rolled his eyes, “Soon or whatever.”

***

Greg woke up to a blaring alarm. He reached for it to shut it off before it drove him insane. The room was too bright-- he’d forgotten to close the windows, last night, apparently. Without much thought, he reached for his phone to call his mother. He didn’t know what was compelling her to admit his lie, but she needed to know.

If she killed him, well, that’d be the end of that. 

He would admit to her that he’d dropped out of school, find something semi suitable to do for a living, and tell her that when and if an opportunity arose at Waystar he’d be willing to accept it. 

“What Greg?” she said on the other end of the line. 

“I have to, like, tell you something?” he glanced around for something to smoke when she inevitably blew up on him.

“I’m listening.”

“I dropped out of school.”

He heard her sigh on the other end and for a moment the only thing he could hear was his own heart pounding in his chest.

“When?”

“A little bit ago. I was afraid to tell you.”

She sighed again, “That’s alright. We’ll figure something out.”

***

Later, after he’d flunked out of amusement park school and his mother had shipped him off to New York, Greg would meet Shiv’s boyfriend. Something would be familiar-- like someone you pass by on the subway, or see in a dream or something. Something about the way he dressed, the way he carried himself. 

Greg thought he was an asshole. A good looking asshole, but an asshole all the same. 

***

Even later, later then Greg could have ever imagined for himself, Tom-- that’s the name he’d learn somewhere down the line-- would put a wedding ring on his finger, bring home his dog, and call Greg husband till death do they part.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you! hope you liked it


End file.
